What Has The IOA Ever Done For Us?
by shootingsilverstarlight
Summary: There's a protest in Atlantis. People sing. There's a guitar in there somewhere too. Complete and utter crack. McKaySheppard slash light slash. Title taken from Monty Python


Complete and utter crack. Seriously. Not a serious sentence in the entire fic.

Beta's by crazyobsessed.

Contains both slash pairings and het pairings (one het actually. And it's not really a relationship. It's a tickle fight.)

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"Sir?" Walter Harriman hovered in the doorway to General Landry's office.

"Hang on a minute" Landry said, not looking up from the papers in front of him. His pen was poised over the page, and his face scrunched in concentration. Walter watched as the General wrote something on the page, and then threw down the paper in disgust. "There was already a '3' on that line," he muttered to himself. "Now, what is it Chief?"

"Well sir, we just got the weekly data burst transmission from Atlantis."

"Yes? And?"

"Well sir, it's very, um short."

"Short?"

"Yes sir. The transmission only took half an hour to decrypt, which is a couple of hours less than it usually does. There are no mission reports, or science reports, or medical reports. Well, there are some, but only for the first two days of the week. In fact, there's nothing here since Richard Woolsey and Natasha Michaels from the IOA left the city."

"What? That's more than an oversight."

"Yes sir. Doctor Weir said she would dial back in an hour to discuss it."

"And how much longer until she dials back?"

"About another ten minutes sir."

"Good. Keep me informed Walter. Call me when they dial back."

"Yes sir."

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Elizabeth stood looking over the Gateroom, a smug look on her face. The usually sparsely populated area was teeming with people; all people from every country and from all areas of the science and military sections in the city. In fact, probably 95 of the city was seated on the Gateroom floor. And the other 5 wanted to be, but were performing necessary duties around the city. There was an air of excitement that ran through the crowd in front of her. Rodney wasn't even complaining about his legs cramping up from sitting cross legged on the floor. He sat next to John amid the masses, singing along with the rest of the city. At the front of the group in front of the Stargate, Kavanagh stood, his guitar slung around his neck. Lorne and Parrish stood slightly in front to him, 'conducting' the singing, getting everyone in the mood and bonding. Kavanagh did a little fancy strum at the end of the song, and people cheered.

"Alright people, lets get this protest started!" Lorne shouted, leading to more cheering. "Kavanagh here will play some more songs. Men: Sing louder!!!" A chorus of cheers went up from the men.

"Ladies: Burn your bra's in protest!!!" he shouted, getting intensely carried away with it.

Dead silence and the glare of a hundred pissed off women greeted him for that remark. He gulped, a little nervously, eyes darting around the room, therefore missing the Banta stick whirling towards him. It hit him on the forehead, knocking him to the ground.

Parrish rushed to his boyfriend's side, glaring at the offender.

"Was that really necessary Teyla?" John asked from where he was seated behind her.

"It was," she answered succinctly, and John gulped a little himself at the look in her eye.

"Ok… Just checking. Though next time, tell me before you almost knock my 2IC unconscious."

"Of course," she replied smoothly, just as Kavanagh started up another song.

"Alright, I think everyone knows this one," he said, desperate to keep the momentum going. "Kumbaya my Lord, Kumbaya…."

Rodney rolled his eyes and protested loudly at the 'Church song', though he really did so to try and cover John's truly dreadful singing. Like his laugh, his singing did not befit such a pretty man, and he sounded like a donkey in distress when he sang. Despite his covering up of John's caterwauling, Rodney found himself swaying with the crowd to the song, and when John reached out to hold his hand on one side, and when Zelenka did the same on the other side, he let himself raise his hands with them to sway in time to the music. He did well too, ignoring the Death Glare Ronon was sending his way for daring to hold his boyfriends hand.

And if he shuffled his ass over a little closer to John for protection, then no one was any the wiser.

"Alright people," Elizabeth shouted from the balcony where she stood behind Chuck, who had a lighter in his hand and was swaying with the rest of the crowd. "It's time to dial back. Remember, this is a peaceful protest in retaliation to the shocking actions of the IOA, so _sing louder_. Especially you John. We want to really make them nervous."

John looked at Rodney confusion evident on his face.

"What exactly does she mean by that?"

"Never mind dear," Rodney patted him on his crossed legs and went back to singing.

John glared at Elizabeth but started to sing again.

"Dial the Gate," Elizabeth ordered Chuck as the volume swelled as the crowd below them sung louder, and more in time with each other and the music.

Lorne was once again back on his feet, attempting to conduct while sending frightened looks Teyla's way. John and Rodney made their way up the steps to the control room and were standing slightly behind Elizabeth when the signal got through to the SGC. General Landry stood there, flanked by SG-1, who looked curious and a little worried. Daniel cocked his head to one side as he tried to make out the singing in the background that was coming through the speakers.

"Doctor Weir," General Landry started. "Care to explain to me what's going on here? Why are there no mission reports included in the data burst?"

"That would be because there were no missions undertaken General," Elizabeth told him calmly.

"And why is that?" Landry demanded, his temper rising.

"On my orders Sir," John piped up. "I cancelled all off-world missions except the most vital diplomatic and trade ones."

"And I stopped all work in the labs, though there's no telling _how_ many months we have been set back because of this. I mean…" he trailed off when John poked him in the side with his elbow.

"And Doctor Beckett ordered all medical labs to stop running, except for the most vital tests," Elizabeth concluded. "In short, this is a work slow down. We're protesting the actions of the IOA while they were here. Not only did Natasha Michaels make all my staff extremely uncomfortable and irritated with her probing questions and her dismissive attitude, she also deleted a large portion of the internal database we set up for all computers in the City. She deleted this without permission, in what she called 'a_n action for the betterment of the city_'. Hence, the protest."

Elizabeth nodded to Rodney, who turned the camera towards the Gateroom floor, and was gratified to see the look of surprise on the faces of the SGC members when they saw all the people protesting. Soldiers sat next to scientists, people from different and feuding countries on Earth sat with their arms slung around each other shoulders as they sang along with the guitar. Kavanagh was still playing 'Kumbaya', because it had a good beat and people seemed to known it. He finally panned the camera back to the command centre, making sure to catch Chuck in all his lighter waving glory on the way.

"Doctor Weir, you can't do this. Whatever they deleted can't be that important! The IOA doesn't want to destroy Atlantis. It must have been taken for the good of the mission."

"With all due respect General, the IOA haven't a clue. They come here occasionally, give us some orders and go back to their nice safe lives on Earth. They have no idea what it's like to live here, the stresses we are under and how little chance we get to wind down. Granted, Mr. Woolsey has a better idea than most, that's why he argued against the deletion of the files. But this is the last straw. We demand our files back. We know that Michaels kept a copy. Rodney saw her put several memory sticks full of them in her briefcase before she left. And this protest will continue until they are returned.

"Colonel Sheppard, I order you cease this action immediately," Landry shouted, getting desperate.

"Sorry sir," John replied, sounding anything but remorseful. In fact, he sounded down-right gleeful. "But I take orders from Elizabeth first and the SGC second."

"What's on those files that is so important?" Daniel asked.

"She deleted our entire porn collection!" Rodney told him, still outraged at the crime. "Everything" Even the home-made stuff! Do you have any idea how long it took me and John to get the lighting right on that last movie?"

"Uh, Rodney…" John tugged at his arm a little desperately, a look of horror on his face.

"Oh please! As if they'll say anything!" Rodney said, gesturing at the screen. "If they do, then I'll just have to let slip about Daniel and Jack's little love nest in the woods! And what Mitchell and Teal'C _really_ get up to in those closed sparring sessions. And Sam and Vala have hot lesbian sex on a regular basis so what should they care?"

Elizabeth and John stared at the screen, where all members of SG-1 had gone deadly pale. General Landry and Sergeant Harriman however, looked like they would burst a kidney in an attempt to stop the laughter that threatened to break.

"Oh come on," Rodney rolled his eyes. "You guys are all way more obvious than me and Sheppard."

"So, unless you get your… collection back, this work slow down will continue," Landry asked, once he had gotten himself back under control.

"Pretty much, yeah," John replied.

"Porn is proven as a great stress reliever. I have statistics here, if you're interested…" Rodney pulled a sheaf of papers out of his back pocket.

"No thanks!" Landry said, looking as if he was about to lose his battle with laughter again. "We'll discuss this and see what we can do. SGC out."

"Make sure to get the one where John wears the black cowboy boots! You just can't buy that kind of hotness!" Rodney yelled just before the connection was cut. The cowboy in question was blushing so hard, his face was practically purple, and Elizabeth looked half amused, half aroused at the thought.

"Right, so…" John began, attempting to drag the attention away from him. "Who's up for some more singing?"

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It took a further four days of protesting before they got their porn back. They were no longer singing songs on the Gateroom floor, but somewhere around day three, Zelenka had broken out the alcohol from his still and they were all now thoroughly pissed.

John and Rodney were alternating between giggling like schoolgirls and making out. (Not like schoolgirls. Well, not like the schoolgirls that Elizabeth had gone to school with. Mores' the pity.)

Radek was sitting on Ronon's lap, supposedly trying to teach him Czech. Rodney wasn't sure that Ronon's tonsils needed such a thorough inspection before attempting the Czech language but, God bless him, Radek was giving them a good once over, just in case.

The _Daedalus _had arrived two days after the call to the SGC, and once they heard what it was about, the entire crew immediately abandoned ship and joined. Caldwell particularly was pissed that he hadn't gotten to download the video that Cadman had made of Sheppard and McKay in the jumper on the mainland, during some harvest festival or something before he left the last time. He had seen a clip of it before, and had marvelled at the fact that even though McKay wasn't the most in shape, he sure was bendy. He was engaged in a tickle fight with Elizabeth when the Gate started to dial in.

"Incoming wormhole," Chuck called from somewhere under a pile of bodies on the Gate room floor. Rodney dragged himself away from John and went up to the control room, and sat down in front of the computer. The gate was only active for a second to transmit a data burst through before it shut down.

He starts the decryption sequence and the first words that appear are:

HERE ARE YOUR DAMN FILES. CAN WE GET BACK TO WORK NOW?

GENERAL HANK LANDRY

Rodney grinned a full on, evil scientist grin.

"Hey guys! It worked. We got them back!"

The cheer that rose from the Gateroom floor rivalled the one that erupted when they successfully defended the city from the Wraith.

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Later still, after the round of celebrations that included yet more alcohol, and really, Rodney had to commend Radek for making so much of the stuff and for giving it out so willingly, he and John were safely ensconced in their bedroom, their latest video playing on the screen at the foot of the bed.

"Man I missed this," Rodney said, munching happily on popcorn as the moans from his on screen counterpart rose in volume. On the screen, John was going down on him, and Rodney was flushed and sweaty and holding John's hair in a death grip.

"Yeah," John agreed, snaking his hand in the bowl for some more popcorn. "Just think of the amount of jerking off and sex that is going on right now cos of the returned files," he said wistfully.

"Brings a tear of joy to your eye," Rodney agreed, tilting his head to one side to look at the screen from a different angle. "Have I lost weight since we made this?" he asked.

John tilted his head sideways too.

"Yeah, I think you have," he agreed. "Guess all that speedy running from spear wielding natives has paid off huh? Told you it was good for you."

"Oh please," Rodney scoffed. "Running fast is good? _Nothing_ good is done fast. The best things in life are slow."

"That's 'free', McKay. The best things in life are _free_. And you're not exactly the poster child for slow living. You're hopping off the walls half the time, and your hands… they're like a blur sometimes." John licked his lips and tried not to look turned on at the thought of Rodney's capable hands. "Hell, you practically built an A Bomb in twelve hours!"

"_Good_ things are slow John, and I don't think you could find anyone anywhere that thinks that an atomic bomb is good. Except maybe Cowen. And Ladon. And Kolya. And any member of the Genii. But other than that…" He was distracted from talking by the move John made on the screen. "God you're limber," he breathed, shifting uncomfortably to try and hide his hard on.

John eyed him speculatively. He saw Rodney squirming and grinned to himself. Setting the popcorn bowl aside, he raised himself to his knees.

"Oh that? That's nothing," he said. "I can do _waaay_ better than that. Watch."

And then he pounced, knocking Rodney onto his back and showing him just how limber he really was.

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Yeah, I'm totally not to blame for this fic. It was crazyobsessed who started the conversation about a protest fic! I just kind of, wrote it. lol. But I still blame her.

You know what to do guys!


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